Love on a Deadline (7 page)

“I . . . no.” Mac backed up. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Miss D.” Trevor grinned. “We need you to even up the teams.”

Guys.
They always stuck together.

“Great.” Ethan took her silence for agreement. “First touchdown wins.”

He divided the group into two teams, appointing himself and Mac as captains. The look of anticipation on the boys' faces, combined with the sunlight and pine-scented air, stripped away Mac's misgivings. She'd made a fool of herself in front of Ethan before and survived.

Ethan barked out a few rules—Mac suspected it was for her benefit more than the other players—and they met at an invisible line in the center of the yard.

The first few minutes, Mac tried to be an asset to her team by staying out of everyone's way.

“You're doin' great, Miss D.” The running back cuffed
her on the shoulder as they formed a huddle to plan their next strategy.

“I'm terrible and you know it.” Mac swiped at the blades of grass stuck to her jeans.

“That's why no one will be expecting me to pass the ball to you,” Trevor whispered.

A flea flicker. Coach's secret weapon.

“No!” Mac squeaked.

“All you have to do is catch the ball.” Six teenage boys looked way more confident in her ability than Mac was.

She rolled her eyes. “If that's
all
I have to do . . .”

Sarcasm was obviously wasted on teenagers—or else they simply ignored it—because her entire team was grinning as they jogged back to the line.

Mac's eyes met Ethan's and he winked at her. The guy hadn't even broken a sweat while she felt damp and sticky and . . . green.

The play started and Mac broke to the right, following Trevor's lead. The football hurtled through the air and Mac was tempted to duck and let it sail over her head, but she
was
the coach's daughter. It wasn't only her reputation on the line.

To a girl who'd always stood safely on the sidelines, she found a whole new perspective of the game when a group of teenage giants thundered toward her.

Fortunately, Mac had a head start. The rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins didn't hurt, either.

Halfway to the touchdown line, Mac made the mistake of glancing over her shoulder.

Ethan was right behind her.

“Oh no, you don't!” The football began to slip through Mac's hands and she tightened her hold. Glared at Ethan. “I'm not letting go.”

“Have it your way.” A strong arm snaked around her waist and a low laugh vibrated in Mac's ear as he lifted her off her feet.

“Put. Me. Down.” Mac thumped her fist against Ethan's back as he slung her over his shoulder and loped toward the touchdown line.

No one from either team bothered to intervene. Even upside down, Mac could see the boys doubled over with laughter, cheering Ethan on.

Ethan scored the touchdown and set her back on her feet again—but he didn't let go. His arms tightened around her, and it didn't even cross Mac's mind to try and free herself this time. Ethan's gaze dropped to her lips and lingered there for a moment, and Mac felt the world tilt sideways.

Or maybe it was the blood rushing from her head.

That would explain why she was seeing things too. Like the woman standing in the shade of a birch tree.

“Ethan?”

Not a hallucination. Lilah Channing. In a rose-colored linen sheath dress and matching heels, Ethan's mother looked as stylish as Mac remembered. And her tight smile, the one that had always reminded Mac of the snap of a coin purse, hadn't changed, either.

“Mom.” Ethan released Mac as Lilah glided toward them. “I didn't expect to see you until next week.”

“I know.” Ethan's mother regarded her son's clothing, rumpled and grimy from battling weeds all afternoon, and
presented her cheek for him to kiss. “But your sister is getting married a week from tomorrow. There's so much to do before a wedding. I thought you could use some help.”

“I have plenty of help.” Ethan nodded at the football team, who'd taken one look at the visitor and slunk away in search of water.

Mac wished she could join them.

“So I see. And might I remind you that you're a doctor now,” Lilah scolded him. “You're supposed to be setting broken bones, not breaking some of your own.”

“It was just a little scrimmage after we finished the yard work. No broken bones. No bruises.”

“You're finished?” Lilah glanced at the boathouse Mac had spent the last three hours cleaning and shuddered. “I could have used my influence and booked the grand ballroom at Porter Lakeside. Why on earth did your sister insist on getting married here, of all places?”

“Because it's beautiful,” Mac heard herself say.

Lilah turned to look at her.

“You remember Mackenzie Davis, don't you, Mom?”

“Of course.” Lilah's gaze swept over Mac and lingered for a moment on the grass-stained knees of her jeans.

“Mrs. Channing.” Mac resisted the urge to curtsy. “It's nice to see you again.”

Lilah inclined her head. “I suppose your father is still working at the high school.”

“Yes, he is.” Mac's spine straightened a little. Only Lilah Channing could make teaching sound like a punishment instead of a rewarding career.

“Actually, Coach let me borrow his football team for the
afternoon,” Ethan interjected smoothly. “Mackenzie has been a big help.”

“I'm sure. You were always quite the little tomboy, weren't you?” Lilah's tinkling laugh sent a chipmunk scampering for cover. “But I'm here now. I've hosted dozens of parties over the years, and I have a wedding consultant on speed dial.”

Mac might not have been in Hollis's circle of friends, but she understood the meaning behind Lilah's bright smile.

Mac was clearly outside her element. An
outsider.

Which meant it was time for her to leave.

“Is this seat taken?”

Ethan, who'd been skimming through the list of upcoming events in the church bulletin, glanced up at the whispered comment.

“Hollis.” He rose and his sister threw her arms around his neck. The elderly couple seated across the aisle smiled indulgently at the exuberant greeting, and when Hollis finally released him, it was Connor's turn. His future brother-in-law shook Ethan's hand and added an affectionate cuff on the shoulder.

“What are you two doing here? You weren't supposed to be here until Wednesday.”

“Connor's appointments went better than we expected, so we decided to come up a few days early.”

Ethan's lips twisted. “There's been a lot of that going around.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mom's here.”

“I was afraid that would happen,” Hollis groaned. “Mom thinks I'm going to be carrying a bouquet of dandelions and serving hot dogs cooked over an open fire at the reception. I shouldn't have left you to deal with everything, Ethan. You've probably had your hands full.”

An image of Mac's expression when Ethan swept her off her feet flashed in his mind. He remembered her howl of mock outrage when he'd tossed her over his shoulder. And the way she'd felt in his arms . . .

“He's smiling.” Hollis looked at her fiancé. “Why is he smiling?”

“You keep telling me that fresh air is good for people.”

It was more than fresh air. It was Mackenzie. Ethan hadn't had that much fun in months. Years, even. Sure, he squeezed in time at the gym when he wasn't at the clinic, but his workout was disciplined. Designed to yield the maximum amount of benefit in the shortest amount of time.

Somehow Mac had known just what he'd needed. A football and a stretch of green grass.

And then his mother had shown up.

Five minutes later, Mac had herded the players into the van and driven away, taking some of the sunlight with her.

“Mornin', Ethan!”

“Hey, Coach.” Ethan felt a stab of disappointment when he realized Mac wasn't with her father. “You remember my sister, Hollis, don't you? And this is Connor Blake, her fiancé. Connor, Ben Davis.”

“It's nice to meet you, sir.” Connor extended his hand.

“Call me Coach.” Mac's dad chuckled. “I don't know how
to answer to anything else.” His gaze shifted to Hollis. “Mackenzie is volunteering in the nursery, but you should stop in and say hello after the service. I know she's looking forward to interviewing you for the
Register
.”

“Mac?” Hollis turned to Ethan. “She's the one writing the story?”

“She's their reporter . . . and the photographer,” Ethan said. “Didn't I mention that?”

“No.” Hollis frowned. “As a matter of fact, you didn't.”

Coach smiled. “Well, you both will have some catching up to do.”

The pastor returned to the podium, and the buzz of conversation dropped to a whisper as everyone shuffled back to their seats.

“What's the matter?” Ethan asked as they sat down again. “Mac grew up next door to us. You have to remember her.”

“I remember her,” Hollis murmured. “I'm just hoping she doesn't remember
me
.”

Ethan was a little puzzled by the cryptic statement, but he didn't have an opportunity to question her further because the worship team took their places at the front of the church.

The congregation joined in the opening song and Ethan struggled to remember the words. On the rare Sundays when he wasn't working in the ER, he'd tried to catch up on his sleep.

Ethan bowed his head and let the music flow over him.

He and God definitely had some catching up to do too.

“They're getting married Saturday and they don't have a
caterer?”

The stunned look on Annie Price's face told Mac that yes, this could present a problem.

“Not according to Ethan.” Mac shook her head. “He claims that Hollis wants to keep things simple but when I was at the house on Wednesday, I kept waiting for a team of people to show up like they do on those makeover shows and build a ballroom over the outdoor patio. Maybe move the shoreline a little.”

Annie chuckled. “I can't imagine changing a thing. I've seen Channing House when Jesse and I go kayaking. It's . . . big.”

It was also the only house in town that actually had a name.

Mac adjusted the flannel bundle cradled in her arms. Once a month she volunteered for nursery duty during
the morning worship service and she considered it divine intervention that she'd been paired up with Annie, who was only a month away from exchanging vows with Red Leaf's favorite county deputy. When they weren't rocking fussy babies, they'd been discussing Hollis's wedding plans. Or lack thereof.

“You look deep in thought.” Annie, sitting cross-legged on the floor across from Mac, carefully extracted one of her platinum curls from Isabelle Gibson's chubby fist. “Is something else bothering you? Other than the fact Ethan bribed you into sharing your wedding expertise, of course.”

“In my case, wedding expertise is an oxymoron.” And Mac was sure Lilah Channing would agree with her.

“I don't know about that.” Annie smiled. “From the way you described it, you seem to have a vision of the perfect outdoor wedding.”

Mac felt a blush coming on and turned away, carefully transferring her sleeping charge into one of the cribs that lined the wall.

What she'd described—the floating lanterns, centerpieces made up of lacy-white hydrangeas, and twinkling lights—had been the wedding she'd spent hours dreaming about as a teenager. Only in those dreams Ethan had been the groom.

She checked on the rest of the babies before dropping down on the colorful square of carpet again. “Hollis will probably nix everything. I'm surprised she even wants an outdoor wedding.”

In fact, when it came right down to it, everything about the Channing-Blake wedding was a surprise. Like the
way Ethan had reacted when he'd found out his mother had contacted the newspaper. And Hollis returning to Red Leaf—the town she hadn't visited in years—to marry a celebrity.